The Dance
by THEdragon-of-rainbows
Summary: Donnie had always been rather unique. The local authorities had always been rather superstitious. What was there to fear in a bit of unexpected rain? (No pairings. Based on a headcanon about the yellow puppet. I refer to the puppets as Red, Crowe and Donnie)
1. First Quarter

**-Weather-**

"That's odd, the weatherman predicted clear skies until tomorrow afternoon." Young Crowe stated, gazing up at the sky. Just minutes ago the sky had been rather clear and pleasant, while Crowe and his companions played around in the sunshine. Now a mass of rather dark clouds hung in the atmosphere, having seemingly rolled in from nowhere. Crowe and his older friend, Red, had stopped their two-person game of soccer to observe the unusual change in weather. Their younger friend, Donnie, seemed quite oblivious to the situation, doing some sort of eccentric dance nearby.

"Donnie, where did you learn that dance?" Red asked, watching him curiously.

The dance was an odd one; he was hunched over, quickly stepping and shuffling his feet around on the grass while flailing his arms around haphazardly.

"I don't know." Donnie replied, slowing down to a stop as he grew rather tired. "I just like it."

"…Well, I think we should head back home. The weather doesn't look so good anymore."

It was only then that the youngest of the three noticed the change in weather, glancing up at the sky and reacting with an unperturbed shrug. It had been his suggestion to head out into the grassy fields to enjoy the good weather and get some fresh air, to play some sports and run around. Now Donnie didn't seem too interested in staying out any longer either, so he nodded in agreement with Red's suggestion to call it a day.

It was not long after the three close friends had arrived back at their peaceful home that the odd change in weather had corrected itself and the sky was clear again. Crowe found the weather activity to be rather curious, but soon decided to shrug it off as Red had. Donnie appeared to barely take notice of it, cheerfully eating a slice of watermelon at the kitchen table while Red turned the radio back on. The little red radio was still tuned in to the local news and weather station from earlier in the day, so Red tuned it into one of their favourite stations, a station that played an endless stream of white noise and wobbly-sounding, distorted, old-timey tunes. The sound would be unsettling to most, but they found it rather comforting.

**-Recollection-**

About a week later, something similar happened again. In fact, it had happened a couple times over the week, the weather briefly bringing unpredicted dark clouds, but no-one took much notice. Donnie had been in his bedroom alone, dancing in front of his mirror. He didn't know what it was about this dance, but he enjoyed it, the first time he had attempted that bizarre flailing motion it had just felt natural to him, refreshing, perhaps. He'd do it if he was feeling happy, or frustrated, or just needed a way of burning energy. However, his first memory of the motions was created under very unpleasant circumstances.

It had taken place on the 19th of June, a date known for its strange and often unsettling phenomena in local culture. The three friends had been sitting silently at the kitchen table, possibly in an unsuccessful attempt to not stir up any of the phenomena mentioned before. A nearby notepad suddenly gained sentience, springing to life with seemingly benevolent intentions and encouraging them to 'get creative'. This notepad's ideals on creativity were quite irregular though, especially towards poor Donnie. When he had showed some initiative by painting a clown (A rather good one at that), the notepad told him to 'slow down' before rather callously pouring black ink all over the near-finished painting. The notepad had also insisted that Donnie's favourite colour, green, was 'not a creative colour' without any given reason. Aside from those odd hiccups, everything seemed to go fairly well with this small paper stranger, until all of a sudden _all hell broke loose_. Vivid hallucinations had erupted through the minds of Donnie and his companions as they flailed and squealed in their seats, experiencing delusions of disorientation, violent weather, and inexplicable gore. At one point they thought they were cutting slices of cake made of some gruesome raw meaty mass. It was during these delusions that Donnie first experienced that dance. He had no idea why he did it, of course, but it was part of the hazy, distorted memory he retained from the event. Some other memories of the occurrence were better left forgotten, and may have been if it weren't for the raw, bloody taste left in their mouths for a while afterwards. The notepad suggested they agree 'to never be creative again' after that, and never spoke to them again.

Donnie shivered a little as he recalled that day, now a few months behind them, before being interrupted by Red's calm voice outside his room.

"I'd better bring the washing in, Crowe; it looks like it might rain." Red called out impassively.

Following Red outside to the clothesline, Donnie could see that the sky did indeed look as if it might be bringing a shower, with rainclouds looming overhead. They didn't stretch out over a vast area, though, so it seemed they might pass soon. While Red unpegged various damp clothing and sheets from the clothesline, the dark clouds began to dissipate, to his unexpressed frustration. He hadn't seen the clouds come in from anywhere, and he was beginning to lose trust in the meteorologists, so he had to make the decision of whether or not to take a risk and hang the laundry back up.

"Those weathermen need to get their act together." Red stated in a mostly unimpressed tone to his young friend, who stood silently beside him.

**-Father-**

Over the next year and a half or so, people in the area quickly took notice of the erratic weather patterns that would occur from time to time, but most eventually came to accept them. No meteorologist could figure out why a clear, sunny day could suddenly turn to a brief sprinkling of rain from a dark sky out of nowhere in only a few minutes. The weather, although inconvenient and perhaps even a bit unsettling at times, wasn't doing any harm to anyone so they got used to it. However, there was a handful of townsfolk who acted as 'conspiracy theorists', blaming such phenomena on curses, superstition and bad spirits, but they were generally ignored.

During one of the later days of spring, Donnie's deadbeat father Roy was passed out face-down on the sofa again. Goodness knows what he'd been doing earlier. Donnie prodded him awake.

"Uurngh… Whaddaya want." The father grunted, scratching at the few strands of wiry blue hair he had left on his head.

"Nothing, just making sure you're not dead." Donnie replied, a slight tone of relief in his voice. Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd woken his passed-out father in such a way.

He was rather bored now. Crowe was visiting his parents during one of the few days they were both around to spend time with him, and Red was out shopping. Since getting any fun or entertainment out of his dad didn't seem like an option, Donnie had only his imagination to play with.

Now awoken and suffering a headache, Roy had to endure the racket of his son running up and down the house, talking to himself and causing a ruckus. Giving in and looking up over the back of the sofa, he didn't know whether he was amused or annoyed by what he saw.

"Cut out that silly victory dance, kid." Roy muttered to his son with a subtle laugh.

Donnie had started doing that dance again, almost out of habit, kicking about his legs and waving his arms, hunched over. The boy just giggled and kept going, letting his imagination run wild to amuse himself. With a grunt, Roy pulled himself sluggishly off the sofa and over to the window, squinting at the sunlight he hadn't bothered to wander directly into for quite a while.

He couldn't help but notice the dark clouds of moisture forming out of the air, rolling together into rainclouds at alarming speed. The man's blank, hung-over expression fell to a slightly worried one as he glanced at his son and then back out the window. Sure enough, it began to rain, perhaps slightly heavier than it had been before. Something in Roy's head clicked, his eyes widened and a vulgar expression was muttered under his breath in slight alarm.

"I said cut it out!" He demanded rather sharply, making Donnie flinch a little as he stopped dancing abruptly.

Donnie had seen his father get irritable at him for no real reason enough times to not be particularly shocked, but he was certainly disappointed. He wasn't sure why his dad hated that dance all of a sudden, as he hadn't seemed to care much about it before. Not long later, the rainclouds began to clear away.

**-Discovery-**

The weather appeared to be a lot more stable over the next several months. Unpredicted occurrences of rain happened much less frequently, most rainfall was consistent and expected. Still, surprise showers still fell from time to time, but to no-one's major concern. Crowe's rekindled curiosity towards the period of unexplainably erratic weather had spread to Donnie. No-one could explain why during that one year those unexpected rainclouds had started appear, or why they were now starting to occur less often. Most peculiarly, they had only been appearing around this specific area, other towns and cities had reported only stable, predictable weather patterns.

"This is still incredibly strange!" Crowe expressed aloud to himself and to his companion, as he paced back and forth across the living room. "There are no significant events, climatic or otherwise, to link to these sudden bursts of rain! And nothing to suggest what caused the period of erratic weather to start and to slow down!"

Donnie sat down in Red's favourite green armchair and thought to himself. When did the last few 'surprise showers' happen? He remembered one had happened during Red's recent birthday party. It wasn't a huge party, just the three of them and some of his closest family members, with simple music and snacks. Still, they all had a good time, even when Donnie ate all the sugary snacks and became rather hyperactive, to the amusement of some of Red's more laid-back family members. Another time was during the June 19th festival, when everyone was singing and dancing to give acknowledgement to the partially dreaded day of the paranormal. After Donnie and his friends (Who had reluctantly joined him after much persuasion) made it back home soaking wet from the rain, they dried off and sat down for videogames only to be so rudely interrupted by a cheerful potted flower that enlightened them to the joys of nature. Quite alike the similar incidents on that date the previous two years, it did not end well. Other times it began to rain unexpectedly were during odd celebrations and parties and such that Donnie attended.

"Maybe it rains when people have parties." Donnie suggested.

"I doubt it." Crowe replied, shaking his head. "People have parties every day. If that were the case it would rain almost constantly, and the change in weather patterns would have started long before just a couple of years ago. Even then, a _party_ wouldn't have any effect on the weather, would it?"

Donnie fell silent, putting his hand to his chin as he thought to himself. Crowe sighed and sat down in his rocking chair, rather defeated, as Red entered the room. Knowing his older friend would want that green chair, Donnie stood up and left the room silently through the door to the front yard, still deep in thought. He began to figure something out, something that might have sounded crazy, but he wanted to put it to the test anyway just to be sure. Looking up at the sky, the boy noted the rather clear, calm weather. Just the weather he needed.

Without any further preparation necessary, he began to dance. He danced hunched over, legs kicking and arms waving wildly, like river dancing with much less rhythm or co-ordination. Within a minute, clouds began to build up in the sky around and thicken, turning dark before dropping rain on all below.

"So… It was me the entire time?" Donnie asked himself as he stopped, gazing up at the sky and admiring his work.

It wasn't until the next morning that Donnie told his friends about what he had discovered. They were eating breakfast together silently when it was brought up out of the blue.

"It rains when I dance." Donnie announced unexpectedly.

Crowe and Red were a bit startled by the sudden statement. They didn't quite understand what he meant.

"What was that?" Crowe replied, needing to hear it again.

"It rains when I dance." The youngest repeated.

"Oh." Crowe uttered softly with a slightly perplexed nod.

The bird shifted his attention to Red, who blinked and gave a soft shrug. They both figured their friend was pointing out a strange coincidence to them, a barely significant one at that. Donnie thought they had understood what he meant, and thought little of their response, or lack thereof.

**-Reveal-**

Several weeks passed before anyone brought it up again. The kitchen radio was tuned in to the weather channel while Crowe, Red and Donnie enjoyed dinner quietly together. It was a 24-hour weather channel, a consistent droning of all local climatic events and predictions, and the erratic appearances of rain had been a popular topic of discussion for a long time now.

_"…It may be… That whatever caused this meteorological phenomenon… Is beginning to fade away… The cause of this… May be a mystery… For all eternity…"_ A gloomy voice droned slowly though the fuzzy radio reception.

"That's just because I don't do my special dance much anymore." Donnie stated nonchalantly, before eating another forkful of mashed potato.

"What do you mean?" Red asked, looking up and laying his fork down beside his plate in a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Whenever I do that dance I like, it starts to rain." The boy explained. "I used to do it a lot more but Dad doesn't like it now for some reason so I only do the dance _sometimes_. Even then he sometimes gets mad, but luckily he stays inside a lot and doesn't pay much attention to the weather."

Crowe and Red glared at each other in shock for a moment. Red was piecing it together, and Donnie was right. That strange rain would always appear when he did that dance. He wasn't sure whether to believe it or not yet, though. Crowe, on the other hand, refused to believe such a thing was true.

"Donnie, that's ridiculous!" The humanoid bird responded. "There's no way _dancing_ of all things could affect the weather! One person's movements cannot possibly change humidity, wind, air pressure and the like!"

"No, it's real!" Donnie replied, a little taken back by Crowe's disbelief. "I'll show you right now!"

And with that, he slid his chair back and stood up, leaving the kitchen and heading outside. Donnie and Crowe exchanged questioning looks and followed, leaving their unfinished dinner behind. By the time they were outside, Donnie was already doing that bizarre, hunched-over kicking and flailing he called a 'dance'. Crowe sighed and crossed his feathery arms as he watched, while Red stood a little restlessly, simply desiring to finish his dinner. Just as Donnie had promised, the clouds thickened and darkened rather quickly, soon dropping a light shower of rain. Red hated getting his fur wet unless he was cleaning it, so he swiftly ducked back inside as the rain grew heavier, while Crowe retreated more calmly, keeping a perplexed eye on the sky.

"Guys!" Donnie called out, stopping his dance to watch his friends leave. "Whaddaya think?"

The other two were already inside, sheltered from the rain. Donnie gave a subtle shrug and ran after them, dripping wet as he entered the kitchen and sat back down for dinner with Red and Crowe. Red seemed rather lost for words, although it was hard to tell just how he felt without a visible facial expression. Crowe seemed surprised too, but then frowned and shook his feathery head. Being a very logical thinker, he never believed in the paranormal or supernatural. An exception, of course, was some of the phenomena surrounding June 19th, considering his experiences, but even then he was opposed to most of the superstitious views associated with it, and the drastic measures they entailed.

"It was just a well-timed coincidence." He insisted. "It was already cloudy when we sat down for dinner."

Donnie was actually quite unbothered by his friend's reaction, now. He barely knew of the incredible significance of his 'power', anyway.

Coming to terms with his young companion's supernatural talent, Red had advised Donnie to keep it a secret and use it sparingly, as he felt revealing such a phenomenon to an increasingly superstitious community could lead to trouble. Crowe, on the other hand, remained completely sceptical, refusing to believe something outrageous like a 'rain dance' would be possible- On any day other than June 19th, of course. Donnie's father, however, had the strangest reaction. He constantly tried to convince his son that his 'rain dance' was all in his head, yet at the same time tried to keep him from performing it whenever possible, as if he were aware of its power.

**-Decade-**

Ten years passed, and as a talking clock had once taught them, things will inevitably change with time. Donnie and Crowe were now adults, while Red had simply progressed further into adulthood. Red's appearance had barely changed at all, save for perhaps a slightly more aged look in his eyes. Crowe had been mature and intelligent since his childhood, so time had mostly allowed for him to physically catch up with his mental age, growing into a smart-dresser, handsome and sophisticated by any anthropomorphic bird's standards. He had even begun studying law and politics, in aspiration of one day being in a position of authority to correct some of the immoral practices of the local government. Donnie, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. He still dressed and behaved like the child he was a decade ago, continuing to wear blue overalls and letting his hair grow ridiculously long. Crowe and Red often worried for their friend, who rejected almost all adult responsibilities and mindsets in favour of arts and crafts sessions and kite-flying, among other child-like activities. Despite this, their friendship remained strong.

June 19th remained an inevitable day of each year. The horrors that came with it for those three were to be expected, and as horrid as it was each time, they always made it out in one piece together somehow. Leaving the house in an attempt to avoid any inanimate objects proved an unsuccessful practice, and contradictory to the advice given to Donnie by his father to stay home on that particular date.

Unfortunately, the practice of removing any children born on the 19th of June remained over this decade. Not long after superstitions surrounding that date arose generations ago, certain authority groups began taking away any newborns born on the day and supposedly putting them through numerous tests and observations in a special facility. Exactly where they were taken to was unknown, but it was somewhere down south, and they would eventually be let back into society once deemed safe and unaffected. Most of the time, anyway. The '19/6ers', as they were often dubbed, could spend any number of years of their lives in this place. If one showed any signs of being out of the ordinary, they would spend even longer there. A few 19/6ers never made it out, and one man was reported to have been let out only to die in an accident a week later. Of course, the majority of locals opposed this practice, especially Crowe. Even the fear of using '19' and '6' consecutively by some people annoyed him.

Very little was seen or heard of Donnie's 'rain dance' over the years. A mixture of both heeding the advice of his peers and a gradual loss of interest had led him to only perform it on very rare occasions. The subject of the frequent erratic weather patterns that had occurred all those years ago was brought up every now and then, but was less of a topic of interest and more of a peculiarity in local history.


	2. Second Quarter

**-Café-**

It was at a café that the subject was brought up again very briefly. One particularly cloudy day, Red, Crowe and Donnie visited a local café to take their minds off things that had been going on in the world around them. Red ordered a plain coffee to suit his plain tastes, while Crowe ordered some variety of fancy tea the others had never even heard of. Donnie , being the overgrown child he was, chose only a juice box from the refrigerator with the intention of heading back outside with it and trying to befriend some frolicking children. The total price of the three drinks had totalled to an amount of 19.6 in local currency. The man serving them at the counter looked rather unsettled upon seeing the number on the cash register, not just because of how overpriced the drinks were, but because '19' and '6' used consecutively was considered bad luck, a bringer of the paranormal.

"Oh, oh dear, I-I'm so sorry about that." The man apologized with a nervous laugh.

"Sir, it's only a number." Crowe sighed, rolling his eyes.

Red silently handed over the required amount of money but was handed a small amount of it back.

"You guys can have it discounted." The man whispered, leaning in closer. "Last time someone payed that amount it started to rain out of the blue and all the customers seated outdoors were furious."

While Red was pleased to get the drinks at a more reasonable price, Crowe grabbed the returned money in frustration and sternly handed it back to the man.

"Look, sir, the business world doesn't have time for people who compromise professionalism in favour of their silly numerical superstitions." He stated in a firm tone. "We appreciate the offer, but no thanks."

The man at the counter glanced at the money, then at his customers with a worried and slightly irked expression that read "Oh, you've done it now". He then hesitantly accepted the money and placed it into the till before turning to the coffee makers behind him to do his work.

Sitting down soon after at a two-seated table by the window with Red, Crowe started the conversation in a rather solemn tone.

"I think I might stay at Uncle Pinewing's farm over my two-week break from my studies." He stated in a downcast tone. "It'll be nice to get out of town and into the country areas for a while…"

"That's good." Red replied, curious of his friend's forlorn tone.

"I heard they're not doing well over there, actually. The land is drying up and the crops are beginning to dwindle. I've been told that if it continues at this rate they'll have to give up the farm..."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that, Crowe. I know you have a lot of family who depend on that farm."

"Oh, well, we don't know exactly what the future holds yet, Red." Crowe said, changing his tone to a more optimistic one. "I mean, things could start looking up sooner or later for all we know, right? And you and Donnie are welcome to come along with me; after all, it's been so many years since my family out in the country has seen you two."

Meanwhile, Donnie was seated cross-legged on the soft, green grass outside the café, sucking at the straw of his juice box as two rather perplexed children who sat before him stared.

"Have you ever seen crayons melt?" He asked between sips.

The two children glanced at each other silently then back at the strange man, shaking their heads.

"I did once. I felt kind of bad for ruining them though."

The children looked down and pulled at blades of grass, shifting nervously. Donnie frowned, noticing they didn't seem to like him very much.

"What's wrong?" He asked, running his fingers through his long, blue hair. "Is it about the melting crayons? If it is, I'm sorry."

The children just gave shy mumbles in response. Donnie was rather disheartened. One thing he disliked about being his current age was that no child wanted to play or make small-talk with him like they used to. Glancing back and forth at the rather quiet surroundings, he thought of a way to brighten their moods a little.

"Wanna see a cool trick?"

Red stirred at his half-finished coffee with the spoon as light rain began to fall from the cloudy sky. He exhaled glumly.

"Red, I hope I haven't brought you down talking about Uncle Pinewing's farm." Crowe said apologetically, noting the dreary mood the rain had brought. "I know we came here to forget about those troubles, not to-"

"See what happened! Now the rain's back again!" The man at the counter announced, directing his statement at Crowe as the rain began to pick up.

"Oh, it's just rain for crying out loud!" Crowe replied, unusually agitated.

A loud clap of thunder stopped the confrontation from progressing any further. Red immediately turned his head to look out the window at Donnie, who seemed partially startled yet partially impressed as he stared up into the sky, squinting at the pouring rain. The children around him had already fled to shelter.

"…Crowe…" Red uttered in a voice deep and concerned.

Crowe turned his attention to where the other was looking. In the visible distance, one member of a group of uniformed figures extended an arm to point in the direction of Donnie, who stood blissfully unaware in the rain. Another began frantically calling a number on a mobile phone as he hurried forward, the rest of the group soon following.

"What's going on over there?" Crowe murmured, holding his finger to the tip of his yellow beak as he watched something begin to unfold.

As the group quickly grew closer, Donnie turned to face them with an innocent smile on his face. He gave a subtle wave hello to them, wondering why they were in such a hurry to get over.

"Crowe, something's not right." Red suddenly remarked, with a hint of panic in his usually flat voice as he sat up from his chair anxiously.

Donnie let out a confused cry as the men grabbed him, restraining him easily through their own strength in numbers. Red and Crowe wasted no time rushing out to help, but were also restrained very quickly when they tried to pull their friend free.

"What is this!?" Crowe screeched, thrashing about in the grasp of these authority-like figures.

"Keep calm!" One of the men replied. "This is for your own good."

"Red!? Crowe!?" Donnie cried out in fear and confusion as he was dragged away, thrashing around as it continued to rain heavily and lightning flashed through the clouds.

Red remained silent, even though he was screaming internally. He had a very, very bad feeling about what was going on, and he was powerless to stop it. An unmarked grey van arrived swiftly and Donnie was forced into the back of it, like a stray dog being forced into the back of an animal control van. As the windowless doors of the van were slammed shut and locked, he simply stared out into thin air, dismayed and confused. Why was he being taken away? What had he done wrong?

As Red and Crowe were lead away into a second van in a much less forceful manner, Red stared down at his feet and thought for a while, only raising his head again to speak.

"Crowe, that looks like one of the vans they use to take away the-"

"The '19-6ers', I know." Crowe spat, interrupting. "It's ridiculous. But what in the world they want with Donnie? He wasn't even born _near_ that date!"

One last pitiful rumble of thunder echoed before the sky began to return to peaceful light-grey clouds, evoking an atmosphere of loss and desolation as those dark rainclouds faded away. People began to emerge cautiously from the shelter they had retreated to. Colourful, caricature-like people. Humanoids with brightly-coloured skin and hair, some with animal-like features, others resembling nothing in particular, all resembling figments of a child's imagination. Everyone had always looked like that, but it had never been of any thought to them, they had never known a world different.

**-Questions-**

Sitting soaking wet in what felt like an interrogation room, Red and Crowe were finally allowed the explanation they had been denied on the way there. It was humid, unsettling, and empty save for a table and chairs. Two authority figures sat before them, calm but alert. Red couldn't tell if they were police officers or something else, but he figured Crowe might know. Crowe, however, seemed equally confused by the current situation.

"Do you know that man?" One of them asked, adjusting himself in his seat.

"Donnie? Yes, he is a close friend of ours." Crowe replied, keeping a cold gaze forward. "We've known him for years."

"Right…" The man responded, as the other began writing something on a clipboard. "And you are aware of his weather-altering abilities, correct?"

Crowe sighed in a frustrated manner, pinching his brow and silently mouthing words to himself. Red felt a wave of uneasiness upon being asked this question.

"…Yes…" Red replied, worried about what may happen next.

"So you've been keeping… 'Donnie'… In hiding?"

"Not really." Red explained, shrugging nervously. "He's just been living with us, we weren't aware he was ever hiding from anything. Honestly, I still don't know what's going on here."

A loud buzz broke the tension very briefly as the other man received a message on his mobile phone. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked it, reacting with a somewhat surprised glance and a shake of his head to his partner.

"Well…" The first man began, turning back to Crowe and Red with a bit of surprise in his tone. "Since this 'friend' of yours was born outside of the 19th of June, according to records, I can understand why this misunderstanding may have occurred. An incident of this kind hasn't occurred in a very long time. We will let you go, now that the threat is contained, however, I would have expected much more common sense from men your age. We will need to contact Donnie's family in order to-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we still don't know what's going on." Red interjected.

"He's a rain-dancer, for crying out loud!" A heavy fist slammed onto the table, startling everyone else in the room. "Such paranormal abilities are dangerous! Do you really think we can just let roam free a man who can summon meteorological events at his own will?"

"There's. No. Such. Thing." Crowe hissed coldly word-by-word. "You're taking away an innocent man who means absolutely no harm to anyone in our society and doing who-knows-what with him. And what for? For some ridiculous superstition that should have ended decades ago!"

At this rise in aggression in Crowe's tone, the two authority figures swiftly escorted him and his friend out of the building, denying them any further information on the subject. That same dreary van was used to escort them both back outside the café they had been taken from, not that they had wanted to go back there anyway. Only a few people remained, still shaken by what had occurred earlier. Inside the café, Red and Crowe's unfinished drinks still sat on the table, cold and untouched. While Crowe stared coldly into the distance, Red bent down and gently picked something up off the soggy grass. It was a half-finished juice box; the one Donnie had been drinking from before he was taken away.

"…Crowe, when do you think we'll get to see Donnie again?" Red asked, knowing deep down that the answer, if given, wouldn't be a good one.

"I don't know, Red." Crowe replied, uncomfortably readjusting his cold, damp shirt. "We have to tell Roy what happened."

"Argh, not Roy…" Red moaned, grabbing at his rain-matted mane of hair with the hand that wasn't grasping the juice box.

He wasn't looking forward to it at all. He had never liked Roy, Donnie's father, very much. While Roy wasn't the worst of men, there was a lot about him that rubbed Red the wrong way. He didn't seem like a very good parent, either, especially being the only one Donnie had left. Crowe seemed to keep his distance as well. Red certainly wasn't looking forward to breaking the news that Roy's son had been taken away.

The walk home was long and quiet. Dampness left over from the rain had only added to the discomfort. Upon arriving back at the house, Crowe went straight to the bathroom to dry off his feathers and change into clean clothes, while Red headed to the kitchen. He gently placed that half-finished juice box into the back of the refrigerator, in the slight hope that by some chance a misunderstanding would be realised and Donnie would return home in the next few days.

**-Roy-**

"Uhm, Roy, hello…" Crowe greeted nervously, twiddling his fingers with his fists rested on the table in front of him.

"Ehrm, hi…" the now middle-aged man replied, a little puzzled. "Where's Donnie?"

"That's… That's what we needed to talk to you about." Crowe gulped.

"I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but…" Red began, taking over upon noticing Crowe's nervousness. "He's been taken away. We're pretty sure he was taken by the same people who take the 19-6ers."

Upon hearing this news, Roy's crooked, wrinkled face twisted into a scowl as he threw a fit in dismay, slamming his fists down, hissing and cursing under his breath. Somehow the two bearers of the news knew this anger wasn't directed at them, perhaps at no-one in particular, perhaps at the world itself.

"We're very sorry." Crowe uttered sympathetically, lowering his head.

"Nah, it's not your fault, really." Roy sighed, calming down a bit. "I should have done a better job keeping the kid from giving himself away to them. I should have told him about his mother…"

"Donnie told us his mother went missing while he was very young." Red asked, a little displeased by whatever secrets this man had been hiding from his own son.

"She did, Red. She did." Roy began to explain. "Donnie didn't get his rain-dancing thing from nowhere, and he definitely didn't get it from me. Heck, it's run down through generations since a 19-6er was born with it back before that stupid baby-snatching policy, or so she told me. I think it was her great, great grandfather who started it. I dunno, I could be wrong, but you get the idea. When newborn 19-6ers and the like started getting taken away, the only rain-dancers who passed it down to their kids were the ones who had them before they or anyone else even realised they had that bloody curse. Once they were caught, they were gone."

"So… Your wife was taken away by those people just like Donnie was?" Red asked.

"Yeah. Well, not really, she was chased away, more like it. Not long after our kid was born, only a year and a bit, they were after her and she knew it. She ended up fleeing town when they came looking and she never came back. Whether they found her or not, where she is now, or if she's even still alive, I wouldn't have a clue. It was only natural that I freaked out when I realised the rain-dance had been passed down onto Donnie.

"But why didn't you tell him about all this?"

"I didn't think he'd understand it. And I didn't want him thinking he was some kind of freak, either, living life afraid of people who have some sort of weird prejudice against his talent, either. All I could do was kind of just nudge him away from making it obvious. Turns out I didn't do a good job."

"Roy, how long will Donnie be gone for?" Crowe asked, willingly ignoring the talk of the 'rain-dance'.

"I hope your last words to him were good ones." Roy answered solemnly, looking down as tears began to well in his usually dead-looking eyes. "I don't know if we'll ever see the poor guy again. They might keep him their forever now that they know what he's capable of."

Those words lingered cold and thick in the air. A wave of dread and realisation rushed over Red and Crowe when it dawned on them that in such a brief and sudden moment of chaos they had lost their younger friend forever.

**-Reminiscence-**

Almost two months had passed since Donnie had been taken away. Those two months did not pass without a fight, though. With all the knowledge gathered from his studies in law and politics, Crowe fought for Donnie's freedom with the help of Red, but alas, it was to no avail. Why should a good person be sent away for a supposed act that hasn't caused any noticeable harm to anyone? Apparently many groups of authority don't take kindly to altering natural forces.

Crowe had left for his uncle's farm a week ago. He had offered to let Red come along with him, but Red politely declined was sure that by now his friend only felt obligated to invite him. Crowe was an adult, he needed time alone with his family, and Red didn't want to be a burden on that. Red remembered the first time they had gone to Uncle Pinewing's farm, him, Crowe and Donnie, all together during their much younger years. The farm was a very peaceful place, and the family of birds who owned it were the most hospitable folks one could come across.

A photo hung on the wall capturing a snapshot of their visit. In the centre was Donnie, his arms around the shoulders of his two friends. Two his left was Crowe, dressed in the more casual attire of a brown flannel shirt, and to his right was Red, with a peaceful gaze and droopy eyelids. In the background was Uncle Pinewing's family home, and behind it a span of beautiful mountains. The photo frame was dated '19.06.55'. Of course, the photo had not been taken in any year ending in 55, or even on the 19th of June. They had just never gotten around to removing the engraved plate from that frame, which had been given to Red free of charge due to its unfortunate date.

Red stared longingly at that photo, reminiscing those old days long gone. He had been feeling very unusual lately, a peculiar variety of sadness, perhaps. Spending each day alone had been peaceful and in well order, but incredibly monotonous. Each day he would wake up ready to get the day over and done with, only stopping his daily routine to think about how he missed his friends. Of course, Crowe had planned to return in only another week, but Red knew he was already starting a life of his own. Not only was Crowe juggling studies with casual jobs for work experience, Red had also caught him browsing through houses up for sale. It was only a matter of time before he would move out, find a career and start a family. When that time would come, Red wouldn't dare try to hinder him, but of course the two would likely drift apart. Having all contact with Donnie cut off so suddenly was devastating, though Red had certainly been concerned for Donnie's future. The youngest of the three friends never seemed to grow up, so what the future had held for him before that incident was a mystery to Red. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Perhaps a world like this just wasn't ready for a guy like Donnie.

Red headed outside, the evening air chilling the skin under his red fur. He gazed up at the faint stars, recalling the impact Donnie and Crowe had on his life. How he came to become such close friends with two boys so much younger than him was a lost memory, all he could remember was Crowe being only a hatchling when they met through their mothers being good friends. Red was already about eight years into school at that point. Donnie was born a couple of years afterwards and Crowe had later befriended the strange boy before introducing him to Red.

An unblinking point of light moved steadily across the darkening sky. Red watched the satellite, refusing to break his stare lest he miss a moment of its visibility before it faded into the shadow of the world.

Crowe had always been accepting of Red's dull ways, he needed not to be constantly thrilled for entertainment. Crowe saw past Red's often inexpressive demeanour and found an introverted but genuine friend. Donnie had been the break in monotony, the reason to get out and do something different, to try new things, to live a little. Despite often being short on tolerance, Red never regretted being friends with the two children during his early adult years. He ended up playing a brotherly role to them, quite willingly, in fact. The memories only made the thought of losing them hurt even more.


	3. Third Quarter

**-Escape-**

The food was spat out in disgust. It was mediocre at worst, but the ideologies were bitter and nauseating. Trembling hands dipped straight into it, savouring the sensory rush of its texture before lifting a handful of it up off the plate, and smearing it slowly across the once clean wall in gentle strokes. Heavy breaths resonated through the room as those same trembling hands intricately decorated in green peas what would have been considered the most taboo of slurs or symbolism to be pasted on the wall in mashed potato, given the circumstances.

Guards' heavy footsteps rumbled forward as their raspy voices screamed and scolded. The door swung open and fingers pointed fearfully at the unspeakable abomination that had soiled the wall. _19-6_. As if a direct slap in the face to the entire situation and all these people stood for, those two numbers used consecutively had been smeared boldly across the wall in what was supposed to be a pleasant dinner. In frantic efforts, the graffiti was wiped away timidly by once daunting authority figures, lest it evoke eerie phenomena. A brief distraction was all that was needed; an open door presented itself as its own metaphor in physical form, a welcoming opportunity. A hasty take-off with clumsy yet swift steps began an unforgivable error for many, a tremendous success for one.

The walls of the labyrinth spun and contorted with the emotions of the patrolling watchers, their faces blurred and their voices boomed aggressive white noise as they gave chase. Young and old fellows of all shapes and sizes watched from their rooms, frightened and confused. These walls, floors and roof were built with a damaging flaw; they were designed to hold only those who had built no memories of life outside, no longing for it, no desire to escape. The place had been better built to stop those outside getting in, to keep out distraught parents longing for misplaced children. Breaths grew heavier with each swift step, the air thickened with tension and the tension smelled of chemicals.

Endless twists and turns were made, each corner bringing with it an increase in havoc that trailed behind. A turn had to be made were no turn was meant to have been. A graceful curled-up dive through an ordinary glass window shattered it into hundreds of glimmering blades that scratched and pricked, catching in hair and cutting at skin. A thud on the grass was barely audible over the blaring of sirens, as if the building were an entity screaming out in horror at a rupture in its epidermis. The escape was far from over. A mad scramble up through the dense scattering of trees and out of the valley led only to a moderately tall wire fence. Down below, men swarmed out of that outlandish place like angry bees from a hive. There was no other option than to scale the fence. Fingers and feet gripped at the wire contours with ease, but climbing over the peak of the fence revealed the nasty surprise it wielded. A painful shock, a jolt of electricity, a cry of sudden dismay, and a plummet back down onto the ground. The rough landing was not an entirely misfortunate one, however, for it had occurred on the other side of the fence.

Going back now could mean unspeakable punishment. Going forward could mean absolutely anything. Fresh air helped to clear out a hazy, distorted mind. The world stopped spinning; realisation was setting in as well as physical pain. The first phase was complete, but before the second phase, a final flip of the middle finger to that facility and all it stood for was necessary, a passionate victory dance.

**-Farm-**

Crowe's aunts, uncles, cousins and the like hid their sorrow, treating him with warmth and glee despite both sides having met bringing bad news to tell. The condition of the farm had only gotten worse, drought had wreaked havoc on their crops and livestock, and setting up a useful irrigation system was far out of their financial reach. Despite the despair, they had all been so delighted to see Crowe again, and of course they were full of questions to ask him. They wanted to know all about his studies, his adventures, and of course, his friends. Usually Red and Donnie would visit them as well, so they were surprised that they hadn't turned up.

_"Where's that rascal Donnie, and that shy fellow Red?"_ Uncle Pinewing had asked with a raspy laugh. _"Grown too old to hang around at the farm?"_

He had realised something wasn't right when Crowe's expression fell with a sigh. Explaining what had happened to Donnie had been hard for him, especially watching his family's dismayed reactions. They all understood well why Red hadn't come along to visit; he was likely still upset and felt the need to give Crowe some time alone with family. Over the past week and a bit at his uncle's farm, Crowe had tried to relax a little, loosen up and get his feathers a bit dirty, but apprehension plagued his mind. He knew they were on the brink of selling the land to the local government for a hefty sum of money, and using it to all go their separate ways and start new lives. The rather isolated area of land would be used to build some sort of special facility, but they weren't told much other than that. While this seemed like an appropriate option to choose given the current circumstances, Pinewing had often wept at the thought of losing the once beautiful farm he and several previous generations had grown up on. With less and less good produce to sell and money starting to run short, it seemed there would eventually be no choice.

Crowe had done what he could to help out around the farm despite being told many times he had no obligation to do so. Things like cleaning the house and the barn, collecting chicken eggs with his younger cousins, and assisting in the tedious task of watering what very little surviving crops remained with buckets and watering cans. It was certainly a sudden change from his usually refined ways, but he welcomed it. At meals he would sit at a rather crowded old dining table and make conversation with his family about the day's activities, strange stories, or life in general. They tried to keep the conversations as optimistic and upbeat as possible for each other.

"So, is Red still hiding his face under that long mane of his?" Pinewing asked with a mischievous grin on his grey beak.

"Yes, I don't think I've seen him cut it for as long as I've known him." Crowe Replied while picking at the chunks in his soup with his spoon.

"How's he ever going to kiss a lady with all that hair covering his lips?" Pinewing let out a loud, gravelly chuckle at his own humour, while Crowe gave a stifled laugh and other family members rolled their eyes.

"Well he'll have to find a lady, first." Crowe stated. "I'm sure he could he got out a bit more, or was a little more open. Then again, I can't say I have any idea what kind of girls Red's into, and what kind of girls would be into Red."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. That would happen whenever someone wanted to directly mention Donnie. A whole week into Crowe's visit and they still had to constantly remind themselves not to talk about Donnie unless Crowe was the one to mention him. As much as they wanted to ask about what mischief Donnie had gotten into, and goodness knows there were some exciting stories to tell about him, they didn't want to risk upsetting Crowe by reminding him of a friend he would never get to see again.

"…Mable, there's a feather in my soup and I think it's yours!" The lanky, scruffy-looking bird at the end of the table announced, breaking the silence as he pulled a feather out of his bowl.

"It is not!" Mable protested. "I'm teal-coloured, that feather isn't! That one was probably from Jeremiah, he's ALWAYS moulting!"

A rather light-hearted dispute broke out among some of the family, while Crowe watched on with a subtle sad smile. He knew this visit would almost certainly be the last time he'd get to see his country family members together at the farm like this.

**-Television-**

Red flicked through the television channels. There was nothing else to do until he felt he might be able to fall asleep.

_"Now your children may face hefty fines of up to-"_

_"Wash your mouth thoroughly, lest it become infested with-"_

_"An unexpected storm over the south valley-"_

_"All you favourite recipes at the tip of your toes -"_

Seated snugly in his big green armchair, Red flicked through the channels until he found his favourite one again. And his show was on too, the show about a human named Craig. Watching this particular episode gave him an unsettling wave of deja-vu, as if he had perhaps seen it before. He certainly had, the channel had been re-running episodes of that show in random order for the past several years and no-one had noticed the inconsistencies in what little storyline it had. Red glanced at the other seats in the room. One was a wooden rocking chair favoured by Crowe from a young age, the other was Donnie's chair, a wooden chair painted in bold primary colours that he had grown too big for long, long ago. Both chairs were empty. The whole house felt empty, not of furniture or objects, but of companionship. Red had moved into the house as soon as he was able to, and had offered for Donnie and Crowe to live with them as Crowe's parents had become too busy to pay sufficient attention to him, and Red didn't trust Donnie's father very much.

The show was growing dull. Red pointed the television remote at the screen and switched it off, the darkness of the room making itself evident as its only light source disappeared. He was feeling a little sleepy now, perhaps out of boredom rather than actual fatigue, but either way he welcomed the notion of going to bed. There was nothing left to do with the day, anyway.

The next day began for Red with a dreary groan, and the thought of 'What do I have to put up with today' rather than 'what will I do today'. Truth be told, there were plenty of possible things to do, but no motivation to do any of them. It was all just a slow moving blur, constant reminders flooded in that Donnie had been taken away and could be dead for all he knew, and that Crowe's family was in despair. The newspaper presented nothing but bad news, angry politicians, violent citizens, someone escaping some institution, economic disputes, and the like. He only skim-read most of it, he didn't want to be brought down any further. Evening eventually approached as Red prepared to settle down for the day. He checked the fridge for dinner. There was plenty of good food in there without anyone else around to eat it all, but he had lost his appetite for it.

Red headed out into the front yard holding an auburn glass bottle by the neck. The front yard was an expanse of green field, beautiful on a sunny day but foreboding and sombre during a grey dusk. He had missed the sunset; the sun had now sunk out of view. The sky was growing dark as stars began to emerge and the last remnant of daylight visible was a blue glow over the horizon where the sun had left. Children played around in the distance, visible only as dark silhouettes against the sky. Red sighed at the sight, taking a drink from the bottle and heading back inside.

He figured this evening would be like the previous. Sitting down in his usual green armchair, Red turned on the television and decided he would just wait to get bored and go to bed. He spent a good hour watching various miscellaneous programs and advertisements, drinking and trying to imagine himself in the lives of the people on the screen. Flicking through the channels again, Red stumbled across a music channel that displayed only static, but was playing a tune. He decided to stop and listen. By now the alcohol was starting to affect Red, not making him rowdy or violent, but rather mellow and distant. The music that played from the channel was one with a somewhat upbeat tune, but poignant vocals and lyrics. It was one of those songs that could be either sombre or upbeat depending on the mood of the listener. Listening to the music gave Red that feeling, that sort of tugging in one's chest that comes with being emotionally moved. He went to take another swig of his drink but found it hard to align the opening of the bottle to his mouth through all his hair, so he figured it was time to stop. Not long later, Red dozed off into a deep sleep in his seat, blanketed in the glow of the television screen.

**-Morning-**

It took Red a moment to realise where he was when he woke up. His head ached and the rest of his body didn't feel all too great either. He then realised he had fallen asleep in seat that night while watching television. Oddly enough, the television was turned off. Red wondered if he had been too intoxicated to remember turning it off that night. He got up groggily and checked the front door. It was unlocked; he had fallen asleep without locking it as he had promised he would before going to bed.

"Drat…" Red whispered to himself nervously.

It was unlikely anyone around would have broken in, but still, he didn't like having taken the risk. Unfortunately, upon entering the kitchen and opening the cupboard, it seemed Red's concern had come true. Someone had definitely been into the cupboard, things had been shuffled around and the box of medical supplies had been pulled forward and searched through messily. Panicking a little, Red checked the rest of the kitchen, though it seemed nothing else had been touched but the contents of the fridge, some of which had been taken. Red hurried back to the living room to see if this peculiar intruder had stolen anything, but the living room seemed untouched. If something had been moved or taken, he would've known. Red then checked his own bedroom only to find it seemingly undisturbed. He checked for all of his most valuable possessions, but they were still there. Wondering what the heck had happened last night, Red then checked Crowe's room. It was still exactly the way Crowe had left it when he left for his Uncle's farm, despite some of the rather pricy possessions in it. Red hoped that this intruder hadn't dare taken anything from Donnie's room, despite there being very little of high non-sentimental value in there. He had to check to make sure.

Upon entering that room, Red froze, his pupils shrinking as he flinched and gasped.

"Donnie!?"

Lying on that rather small bed was none other than long-lost Donnie himself. He looked like he had passed out on that bed, fresh Band-Aids pasted around various areas of his body and the two-month-old juice box from the back of the fridge grasped in his hand. He looked very dishevelled; his hair long blue hair was messy and on the ground beside him lay a pile of dirty, dull clothes he had likely been wearing before changing into a pair of his favourite blue overalls. Donnie hadn't awoken when Red entered; he was still asleep with tear stains on his sheets beneath his closed eyes.

"D-Donnie, you're back?" Red stuttered, nervously edging closer.

It was then that Donnie began to stir and stretch his limbs, opening his eyes and rubbing them as he sat up.

"Red…?" He mumbled, still weary. "Oh! Hey Red!"

"Donnie, they let you out?" Red asked, still in disbelief.

"No…" The other replied, shaking his head. "I escaped somehow."

Red stopped and thought for a moment. If Donnie had escaped, they would surely be after him now, and this house would be one of the first places they would come to ask questions. He and Donnie couldn't stick around here much longer, but luckily Red knew just the place they could go.

"Have you spoken to your dad since you got back?" Red asked, with a slight tone of urgency in his voice.

"No, but I probably should." Donnie replied, scratching his head.

"Okay, we'll go see him first, and then we need to go."

"Go where, Red?


	4. Fourth Quarter

**-Dinner-**

Crowe helped his aunt Audrey prepare dinner quite soon after they had all finished lunch that day. The dinner they were making required quite a lot of preparation, and with so many people to serve they had to start early.

"Aunt Audrey…" Crowe began, while cutting some peculiar vegetable into thin slices. "Where are you going to go once the land is sold?

"Oh, don't you worry about me." Audrey replied with a soft chuckle, rummaging through the pantry. "I have pen-pals up North who said they'd welcome me in if ever I found my dear old self in trouble."

Crowe nodded slowly in response. It was strange enough that he was missing something before it had gone, but he was missing it for someone else. He already missed the way his family lived together so happily on this farm.

"I know this is hard for you to take, dear. It's hard for us, too." Audrey said with a sigh, placing some jars on the kitchen counter and turning to Crowe with a compassionate expression on her periwinkle-feathered face. "But unless some sort of miracle comes to our old farm, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do but accept our loss and move on."

Crowe nodded again and continued washing, peeling and cutting vegetables quietly. He wished Red had joined him to visit the farm for the last time, but he knew he had his reasons for staying behind.

Dinner had been finished a little earlier than expected, likely due to Crowe's rather swift food preparation skills. Everyone came pouring in at the call and gathered around the table for the meal.

"What's it this time, mama?" Jeremiah queried, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as everyone was served their plates of food.

"It's that pie you like, Jerry." Audrey responded. "You, know, the one that takes an awfully long time to make."

"Oh, Mable's brought the ukulele to the table again!" Another family member called out, as everyone gave a collective groan and Mable simply rolled her eyes at them.

"Play us a song!" Pinewing joked, digging his fork into his steaming hot slice of pie.

Mable lifted the small instrument and was about to play the first strum when there was an unexpected knock at the door.

"Oh, who would possibly come knocking at our door at this time?" Pinewing wondered out loud, rather surprised. "Mable, could you be so kind as to answer the door for us?"

Mable rose from the seat, the ukulele still in her grasp, and left the table. Crowe gave a light shrug and continued eating his dinner as the rest of the table engaged in light conversation. Mable soon returned to the dining room with a face that looked like she'd just seen a ghost and was _happy_ about it.

"G-Guys, you're not going to believe who's just showed up…" She said with a bit of a stutter, her gaze subtly directed at Crowe.

Mable stepped aside and the two guests walked in. At the doorway was none other than Red, and alongside him, Donnie. Crowe's eyes widened as his jaw dropped in disbelief, gasps rang throughout the table.

"Oh, we came at a bad time, didn't we…?" Red uttered rather sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd all just sat down for-"

"Red!? DONNIE!?" Crowe exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and running over to them, hugging them both tightly. "Wh-what are you two doing here? H-how did Donnie get out!?"

"Now, now, darling." Audrey chuckled, interrupting before Donnie or Red could reply. "We've got plenty of leftovers, why don't we let our dear guests sit down with us for dinner?"

"Y-yes Aunt Audrey." Crowe stuttered in response, still in shock as he led his friends to the last two unoccupied seats left at the table.

Donnie looked down eagerly at the pie served to him, while Red looked at it rather gingerly. Knowing this family, it probably had insects baked into it. As perfectly edible as they were, Red still got the jitters at the thought. The seemingly knowing nod Crowe gave to him confirmed his suspicion. Donnie either didn't know or didn't care as he happily began consuming the food.

"Donnie, it's been such a long time since we've seen you!" Pinewing stated. "You've grown a lot since then, kid!"

"I didn't even recognise Mable at first." Donnie replied, pausing from his food to speak. "It's great to be back here again. Really, I'm just glad I made it out of that place in one piece."

"That's what we've all been wondering about since you walked in." One of Crowe's cousins admitted. "Crowe told us all you were gone, and that you would probably never be seen or heard from again!"

"When I saw my dad this morning he said he had no idea how he'd managed to raise such an escape artist." Donnie began with a soft giggle. "I broke out of that facility a few days ago and made my way back to the house. By the time I got there I was exhausted and pretty scratched up but I'd made it nonetheless!"

Everyone listened in silently to Donnie's story, more intrigued than they had ever been at any dinner conversation.

"That day I was taken in, I was really confused and upset. I had absolutely no idea why they were taking me, I wasn't born on June 19th, and I didn't think I had done anything wrong. Eventually I found out it's because of a weird little talent I have…"

Donnie and Red both Glanced at Crowe, expecting him to roll his eyes or make some comment about the illegitimacy of Donnie's 'talent', but he didn't, he just sat with a thoughtful look.

"Apparently the big guys in charge of keeping to paranormal in check don't take kindly to anyone rain-dancing. I learned that the hard way. I ended up in the same ward as the 19-6ers. Some were older, some were younger, and the latest generation were still babies. It was kind of unsettling. I was treated alright in there, but… I felt miserable. I knew they thought of me as some kind of monster. I mean, I'm not a monster, am I? And it didn't help I'd already spent my whole life freely, living out in the world with everyone else."

"Wh-what was it like in there?" Crowe asked eagerly. "How did you escape?"

"I don't really remember, for some reason." Donnie replied, holding his head and frowning as if mimicking a headache or dizziness. "I was in there for a long time but a lot of it was really a blur. All I remember is there were lots of halls, we each got our own room, and we were almost always being watched over by someone, especially when let out of our rooms. Anyone who did anything unexplainable or out of the ordinary was taken away somewhere, maybe for a few hours, maybe for a few days, before returning. I swear I remember some girl, the same species as Red, being taken away when a guard saw her fur change colour from yellow to green. They don't take chances…"

Murmurs flowed through the room as everyone tried to make sense of what they had heard. Donnie ate another forkful of pie as he tried to recall his great escape.

"One day I realised there was no way they would ever just let me out." He continued. "The only way I was getting out is if I broke out. I wasn't really thinking straight at the time, I dunno if it was something they put in the air but my head was all over the place. When we were given our meals I smeared it all over the wall, spelling out '19-6' just to get attention. Looking back, it was pretty funny! Some patrollers came in screaming their heads off about how bad '19-6' was. The more I think about it, the sillier it seems, actually. So anyway, I bolted right out of that room while they tried to clean that wall. I don't know where I went, but the only way out was through a closed window. I wouldn't go jumping through any closed windows now, but like I said, my head wasn't in the right place at the time. That's also why I didn't feel the cuts of the broken glass much until later. I don't remember much about what that place looked like from the outside, but it was inside some little valley surrounded by forest. The trees helped cover me while I scrambled all the way to the big fence, which I climbed pretty easily until I made it to the top and got electrocuted."

Everyone else at the table gasped and cringed at the thought of Donnie being shocked by an electric fence. They still eagerly waited to hear what happened next in their guest's thrilling story.

"Luckily I landed on the other side of the fence. It was only then that my head started to clear itself of whatever was running through the air vents in that building. You can bet I was relieved, and as a final in-your-face I danced as I hadn't been allowed to since my arrival, and boy did I start a rainstorm! It poured all over that valley, and the thunder and lightning probably scared the pants off those people searching for me. I didn't stick around long, though, I had to get going. I journeyed away throughout the entire night, reaching the nearest town around the next morning. People seemed a bit freaked out when they saw me, I was all damp and dirty and still wearing my plain uniform from the facility, but they were nice enough to give me food and water and directions back home."

"What happened when you got home, kid?" Pinewing asked. Red looked down a little shamefacedly.

"I thought I'd have to bang on the door to wake someone up, or find a way to break in, but for some reason the front door was unlocked so I just walked right it." Donnie began. "Red was asleep in his armchair with the television on. At first I thought he was just up really late, but his eyes were closed and he didn't react to me coming in. I was pretty exhausted, so I turned the television off for him before pasting some Band-Aids on any open cuts or blisters I had and grabbing some snacks and a drink from the fridge before heading off to bed. I fell asleep pretty quickly; it was great to be in my own bed again."

"I… I guess Red told you what's going on with the farm, huh?" Crowe asked glumly as the rest of his family exchanged astonished murmurs.

Donnie gave a sad nod and continued eating. Earlier that morning he had found out all about his mother from his father, and on the way to the farm he learned of its poor condition. Pinewing and the others still had so much to ask and tell, but they decided to save their questions and such for after dinner, to give their guests a chance to enjoy their food.

**-Yard-**

Soon, everyone had finished their dinner. Donnie had quite hungrily polished off most of the leftovers while Red only picked at his pie, only eating the bits we was sure were vegetables. Crowe couldn't help but chuckle as Aunt Audrey worriedly insisted that Red eat more, despite Red claiming he was "Not hungry, really!". Donnie's return had provided a surprising amount of relief, even though the inevitable loss of the family farm was still a looming concern.

The three friends wandered out into the dry expanse that was the front yard, the crunching of the brittle dead grass under each step complimenting the chirping of evening crickets. They were all a bit lost for words. Crowe and Red had heard all they needed to know at the dinner table, save for a few miscellaneous curiosities. Some of Crowe's cousins were out in the yard with them, cleaning things up a bit while the older folks washed the dishes inside.

"Crowe, do you think it would be alright if we stayed here with you for the last couple of days of your visit?" Red asked. "Or… At least Donnie? He's still a wanted runaway after all, they're after him and the first place they'll go looking is back at the house."

"They'll be fine with that, I'm sure." Crowe replied, glancing back at the house.

"That's good; I was worried we'd caused trouble by turning up unexpectedly."

"They're happy to have friendly guests over unexpectedly, especially you and Donnie, they adore you two."

There was a wave of silence after that. Crowe stood in the yard with his gaze lowered slightly and his hands held together behind his back in a formal, almost mournful manner. Red wandered aimlessly, scanning the drought-stricken surroundings while Donnie frolicked like a child through the withered fields. Their attentions turned back to the house when the door creaked open and old Uncle Pinewing hobbled out.

"Are you boys having fun out here?" He called out in his gravelly voice.

"We're doing fine, Uncle." Crowe replied with a smile, a nod and a wave.

"Uhm, Crowe…" Red uttered softly to his companion, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Can I have a word alone with you and Pinewing?"

Crowe, Red and Pinewing discretely gathered around the back of the house to hear what Red had to say. They were always willing to listen, and it sounded important.

"Crowe, I don't think you'll like this idea," Red began, to Crowe's concern. "But I think Donnie can save this farm."

There was a silence and Crowe and his uncle exchanged glances.

"…Wait, do you mean… The thing… With the… Y'know, the dance?" The older bird stuttered.

"Donnie can summon rain, and that's what this farm needs, isn't it?" Red explained. "Crowe, I know you don't believe the rain-dance is real, but there's no harm in trying."

Crowe was silent, glaring into empty space, expressionless.

"Y'know, I was going to ask the lad myself, but I didn't want to risk sounding silly in case Crowe was right about it just being a coincidence." Pinewing admitted with a soft chuckle. "A few of us were thinking about it, I'm sure."

"So… Who's going to ask?" Red finally questioned.

Both gazes turned to Crowe, whose face seemed to be slowly sinking from blank and dead, to that of someone losing sanity in hopeless desperation. Without warning, Crowe pivoted around and stormed away briskly back out towards the yard.

"Crowe!" Red and Pinewing called out in unison.

He ignored them as his hurried footsteps pounded the dry ground and his hands trembled.

"DONNIE!" Crowe suddenly cried out, his scratchy voice cracking as if he was on the verge of breaking down.

Donnie flinched at the sudden cry and spun around, a look of concern on his face as Crowe briskly approached him, Red and Pinewing following some distance behind. A few family members inside the house hurried out upon hearing the cry, and those outside turned their attention to the commotion. Donnie looked almost a bit frightened when his friend placed his feathered hands firmly upon his shoulders and stared him in the eyes.

"D-Donnie… Donnie…" Crowe sighed, shaking his head with a pleading expression. "Donnie, you're our last hope, buddy. Y-you can make it rain, can't you? Please Donnie, I know I haven't done enough for you, but please, make it rain for us!"

Those who weren't close enough to hear what was going on drew closer, curious and concerned. Donnie stood slack-jawed, the sides of his mouth curling into a confused smile.

"But Crowe, I thought you didn't believe in that?" He replied in a tone that was partly playful but also genuinely surprised by his friend's sudden change of mind.

"I know, I know!" Crowe shrieked, before dropping to his knees and begging. "But I'm desperate, Donnie, we all are! I can't stand to see such a large, loving part of my family forced to sell and leave the land that's been owned and loved for generations! I'm willing to believe anything at this point if it can save them! Anything!"

Some bystanders placed their hands over their beaks in shock, having witnessed such an irregular change in behaviour from their once level-headed family member. Donnie knelt down to get eye-level with Crowe once again and smiled reassuringly.

"Of course I'll give it a go." He responded warmly. "We're best buddies, why wouldn't I?"

**-Dance-**

Everyone was gathered around in the front yard under the freshly emerged stars. There was tension in the air and murmuring through the small crowd as Donnie calmly stretched and warmed up his muscles. Crowe stared at the clear dark sky with a soft sigh; he expected this to end only in disappointment. Red paced back and forth quietly feeling rather unsure of what to expect.

"Are you ready, darling?" Audrey called out.

Donnie smiled and nodded in reply, and then Pinewing's voice abruptly rang out.

"Play him a song, Mable!" He shouted cheerfully.

"Hey, you're not making her fetch that dreaded instrument, are you?" Jeremiah joked.

"Of course I am! Donnie needs _something_ to dance to!"

Donnie watched as Mable jogged back into the house to fetch her beloved ukulele. Donnie didn't feel like such a big fuss needed to be made over something he had done so easily and regularly before, but of course, this was a big deal to them. He wasn't going to let them or Crowe down tonight. Mable soon returned with the small wooden instrument in her grasp, smiling brightly at the opportunity to play it for a good reason.

The onlookers seemed to hold their breath in anticipation as the first few notes of Mable's ukulele echoed out across the farm. Once a rhythm was established, Donnie began his dance. Some of Crowe's cousins raised eyebrows in perplexity at the strange movements Donnie called a 'dance', but they spoke not a word, they just watched on. Donnie was hunched over, waving his arms and kicking his legs around like a madman to the tune of the ukulele. Crowe had his head lowered, not watching as everyone else was, for he felt he would only be watching his friend embarrass himself.

But then he felt it. A droplet hit his forehead, rolling over his dark green feathers and down his beak.

No-one had even noticed the sky turn dark until the first few droplets began to fall. When they realised what was happening they cheered and whistled loudly, prancing around in celebration as their clothes and feathers were soaked in the precious miracle. It took Crowe a while to realise, though, as his mind tried to convince him otherwise, but failed.

This wasn't some elaborate joke.

This wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.

This wasn't a coincidence.

It hadn't rained in months and wasn't forecast to any time in the foreseeable future, but Donnie's dance had summoned the rain right then and there.

"Well… It worked, Crowe." Red said in a flat, soft tone, gazing peacefully up at the rainclouds and letting the rain drench his hair. "What do you think?"

Crowe shook his head in astonishment, giggling softly as his eyes began to water. Soon his giggles turned into laughter, then into wild hysterics as he fell to the ground, tears of joy streaming from his eyes as he cackled loudly. The rain poured heavier as the farm's owners celebrated beneath its cool, wet embrace.

"You've lost your marbles, haven't you?" Red asked, watching his companion roll around in the mud.

"It's true, Red!" Crowe wailed between bursts of laughter. "The man can make it rain! He can make it rain by dancing, Red! By DANCING! After all I've learned about meteorology, my lifelong friend has been able to control it at a whim and only now I can see it! What a world, Red!"

**-Separation-**

The next morning there was a much more pleasant mood throughout the farm. That miracle boy Donnie had brought new hope. Crowe had certainly calmed down quite a bit, having come to terms with realising that the rain-dance was indeed real. Donnie was out of that superstitious facility, Crowe was at ease now that his family's farm was able to be saved, but something still seemed to be bothering Red. He picked uneasily at his oatmeal during breakfast.

"There are no bugs in that, you know." Crowe assured light-heartedly.

"I know, the oatmeal is fine, honest!" Red replied. "It's not the breakfast, Crowe, it's me."

"Oh… What's wrong?"

"Well, when Donnie was gone, you were here and I was at home alone, I started thinking." Red began. "What's going to happen when we are all inevitably separated? I mean, you and Donnie are adults now; you'll be going your own separate ways sooner or later. I'm just not used to living without you two around."

"I see what you mean…" Crowe replied. "You pretty much helped raise us, didn't you? I can imagine it'll be hard to see us go…"

"Red, you know I'm not gonna let myself disappear again that easily!" Donnie interjected. "I mean, being on the run and all, I plan to travel around to all kinds of places, stopping by my home town when the coast is clear. Every place I visit, I'll send you and Crowe letters or postcards or something. Then maybe one day when the authorities think I'm dead, or I've found a place where no-one cares about that stupid June 19th superstition, I'll settle there and you can visit me whenever you want. I'll pretty much be following in my mother's footsteps, but hopefully I'll be more, you know, successful."

Red couldn't help but chuckle at his younger friend's ambition; it almost made him feel a little emotional.

"Maybe one day I'll be the one in charge, and I'll flip the rules back over off its head and Donnie can stay in the town, because I'll end this pointless discrimination against those like him and those born on the 19th of June." Crowe thought out loud. "Red, I know and you know that it won't be long before I find a home of my own. And then I'll get into a good career, I'll start a family… That doesn't mean I'm just going to forget you! Heck, you and Donnie will be the first people I'll want to catch up with to talk all about it!"

"Oh, you two, you've made Red emotional!" Audrey interrupted.

Red let out a nervous laugh as he quickly tried to hide the tears that trickled from eyes.

"Th-thanks you guys…" He chuckled with a sniffle. "That means a lot to me."

**-Photograph-**

It was hard to say precisely what they would do with the future to make things work out as planned, but they had a feeling it would all fall into place somehow. Underneath Donnie's childlike personality lay a hidden cleverness and maturity, he would surely figure a way to evade the authorities while still making time to bring rain to Pinewing's farm until the rainy weather came back on its own. Crowe had most of his future already planned out, and now a more open mind to assist him. Red, despite having been an adult the longest, still wasn't sure what to do with himself. Perhaps this unsureness would be his motivation to get out more and see all of the strange little things the world has to offer.

"So, Red, you reckon you'll be alright?" Pinewing asked, adjusting the old yet functional camera.

"Of course." Red replied, reassuring himself as he glanced at his two friends to his left. "We can't lose touch, but… We can let go."

With a loud click of shutters, the photo was taken. The moment was immortalised, Red, Donnie and Crowe standing in the field of the farm together. Donnie's arms were around his friends' shoulders, Crowe was clad in more casual attire, and Red's eyes held a droopy-lidded peaceful gaze. They were confident that it wouldn't be the last one.


End file.
